the fame went to our heads
by Virginia Dair
Summary: "get in the car loser, we're starting a pop punk band." au in which eren jaeger is in a band called the jaegerbombs with his best buds. it could be worse, right? reiner/bertholdt, eren/mikasa, connie/sasha, ymir/christa, and many more. inspired by and cover by tumblr's falloutboyonboy.


**i'm finally posting some snk related stuff yaassss. this whole au is stolen tho. all credits to falloutboyonboy on tumblr. go check out her blog and art!**

**so this is a short little collab i'm doing with my friend lindsey. this whole chapter is written by her. just making that clear since at least one of you will complain that this doesn't sound like me. she's fucking fantastic btw. there'll probably be 6 chapters, i think. hope you guys like.**

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_**Jean**_

Jean was getting reeealll tired of Eren's bullshit. It was the asscrack of dawn, negative twenty degrees out, and Eren had decided there was no way he could do a Starbucks run without his aid. He had refused at first (duh) but Armin had gotten sick of them arguing and had threatened to call Mikasa if they didn't leave him to sleep in peace.

So there the two of them were, awkwardly riding the elevator down to the lobby while crappy muzak played in the background.

The lobby was blissfully quiet, with only a single hotel employee stacking clean plates next to the breakfast bar. He gave them both a polite nod, and they gave half-waves in return before taking a side exit to avoid the paparazzi who had camped out across the street in a Walmart parking lot. Their hotel had prepared in advance for their visit, setting up a strict guests-only policy within 100 feet of the property and their team of lawyers had explained exactly how sued they would be if that policy was violated the night before. So far, only one moron tried to get in (through the laundry room, disguised as staff, no less, like he was in a fucking spy movie), and the asshole was currently freezing his ass of in a holding cell. That was enough to keep the rest of them at bay for the time being.

The weather report on his phone was a fucking liar when it said that it would be a pleasant spring day today. It was cold as balls outside, and Jean jammed his hands into his pockets, scrunching down into his coat collar. "Why do I have to freeze my ass off just so you can get coffee?"

"Because the band is named after me, therefore I rule over all-shit some of the vultures are awake BATTLE POSITIONS!" He slipped his arm through Jean's and threw on a sappy expression, keeping a wary eye on the press out of the corner of his eye.

"Like hell you 'rule all'. I still say the Jaeger Bombs is a shitty band name." He tugged Eren's scarf off and draped it around his own neck, burrowing into the warm folds. Eren pouted and gave him a pathetic glare, both of them fully aware that the rabid horde had noticed them walking by and were taking shots of the two of them walking together (which meant Eren couldn't possibly take his scarf back without looking like a heartless douchbag, god bless).

"You're such an ass." Eren mumbled under his breath.

"It's mine now...unless you wanna share?" Eren rolled his eyes, and if the camera's weren't clicking away behind them he probably would have punched Jean in the gut.

The Starbucks was only a block away, and blissfully warm inside. Jean flopped himself down at one of the dainty little tables and checked his phone while Eren waltzed up to the counter and ordered drinks for the whole crew. Jean didn't know how the hell Eren knew everyone's order to the letter, but he did, and could rattle them off at a moment's notice.

He had three new messages-one from his mom (ugh) and two from Marco, which he quickly opened up.

3:57 am: _Heading to the airport in a few minutes-I'll see you guys in a few hours!_

5:18 am: _We just landed, I'll have to grab my luggage and get out of here, but after that it should be just a 45 minute drive to the hotel :)_

Jean never really got why Marco insisted using proper grammar and capitalization in his texts, but his stomach got a nice, warm feeling in it at the thought of seeing his best friend again after three months on tour. He fired back a quick response

6:02 am: _C u rly soon. E's getting coffee._

There was a small chirp behind him and he glanced up to see Eren hitting on the baristas as they mixed up their drinks. He glanced down at his phone to see Marco had already replied-with a photo of Jean's hair from a few feet behind him. He swirled around in his seat in shock, and was immediately engulfed in a one-armed hug from behind from someone who smelled really nice, like lavender fabric softener.

Marco.

He turned and pulled his best friend into a tight hug, not even caring when the bright flashes of cameras popped outside of the front window as the watching reporters snapped as many photos of the two of them together-the Jaegerbomb's lead singer and their original bassist/current songwriter, reunited as last after months of touring. Jean could almost hear the sappy-ass headlines that would be plastering the internet for days. Marco pulled back, and the two of them got a good look at each other in months.

Marco looked the same as ever- soft brown hair neatly parted, ten fucking billion freckles, black Jaegerbombs t-shirt under a gray hoodie with the right sleeve tied up over the stump of his arm with a scrunchie, gay-pirate eyepatch. Same old Marco, sweet goody two-shoes Marco who refused to wear guyliner with him and Eren, not when even Ymir swore he'd look hot in it. Gentleman Marco who always had a smile and hugs for the fans, who never minded signing autographs for hours and always answered the press' questions with decorum and grace. The den mother while they were on tour, always the designated driver keeping an eye on everyone, the folder of clean laundry. Tragic Marco who cried when the doctors told him they had amputated his arm after the accident, and that he would never see out of his right eye again, not because of the injuries, but because of how scared the rest of the band was, and how he wouldn't get to play with them ever again.

God had Jean missed that freckled face (in the least gay way possible).

"Marcoooooo." Eren gave him an affectionate shoulder bump, balancing four cupholder trays across his arms. "You still take your macchiatos with a double pump of caramel and extra whipped cream, right? Coffee's up."

"Thanks Eren." Marco smiled and the room lit up as he carefully took one of the trays that had been precariously balanced on the crook of Eren's elbow. Jean grudgingly took a tray as well, and the three of them exited the peace and quiet of the coffeeshop, falling directly into the bright lights and camera flashes of the paparazzi.

"How the hell did you get them to stay quiet to sneak up on me?" Jean asked Marco as they smiled and nodded to the shouting press.

"I have my ways…" Marco said coyly, nudging him with the stump of his right arm towards the hotel.

"Disguise?" Eren asked as he shoved his way through the throngs of people, Marco quickly apologizing to those left in his wake until they made it past the 100 foot property boundary.

"I literally put my hood up and they let me through. It's almost insulting." Marco said, feigning hurt.

Jean snorted derisively, taking a long slurping sip of his coffee-black, with a double shot of espresso and as much whipped cream would fit underneath the plastic lid. The caffeine was like a punch to the gut, but fuck if it didn't wake him up. "Is our superstar having a has-been meltdown?" He cooed sarcastically.

"Yes, he is." Marco dramatically flipped his short hair as best as he could. "In fact, it's the inspiration behind the next hit single I'm going to write-" Fuck You And Your Cameras, I'm Marco Bodt"."

"Do I get a long solo with lots of swear words in it?" Ymir drawled, snatching the cardboard tray from Marco as he nearly walked into her stepping off the elevator. Swiveling the cups and grabbing her own, she handed Marco his and slung a gangly arm around his shoulders. "I'm thinking, like, 'Motherfucker you don't know me/I can see you behind that tree/You're dogshit on my combat boots/Through your brain a bullet I'll shoot'."

Songwriting wasn't really Ymir's forte, and she didn't do it that often, thank fucking God or Jean would have quit the band by now. There was exactly one good song she had written (Convention Floor Goddess, which was 100% not about Christa) and the rest were shit.

"Don't you think that's a little violent, even for us, Ymir?" Eren asked.

"No."

"Oh." Eren blinked stupidly and shrugged. "Take Christa and Sasha their drinks, would ya?"

Ymir's eyes lit up a little at the mention of Christa's name and she readily swapped drink trays with Eren, half flouncing up the hall towards the room the two merch girls were sharing.

"Are they together yet?" Marco asked, eyes hearting up like an anime character's.

"No and it's fucking disgusting." Jean said, rolling his eyes. "I call not it for getting Bertl and Reiner up."

"Not fucking it!" Eren yelled, scampering away up the hall as fast as he fucking could, practically diving into the room Jean shared with Armin. Jean didn't blame him- nobody really wanted to walk in on something weird with the two of them (One, EW, Two, Reiner was scary when he was mad).

"Looks like it's on you, man." Jean clapped Marco on the shoulder. "Good luck."

"Wait, what?!" Marco asked, looking startled. "What's wrong with - Jean!"

"They're_ together_ now Marco. I don't wanna walk in on any of their weird shit!" Jean said, shoving the cardboard tray with their drinks towards Marco, who dropped his into a slot and took it, suddenly looking very determined.

"Fine." Marco said, sniffing and lifting his chin, before striding up the hall and rapping on the door loudly. There was a loud shuffling from within, and a few seconds later a shirtless and grumpy Reiner appeared in the doorway, towering over Marco, who had lost his fake bravado by now. "Coffee?" Marco asked hesitantly , offering up the tray. Reiner grunted and snatched the two lattes, then retreated within the room, slamming the door in Marco's face. "You're welcome…" He said softly, eyes wide in terror.

"Best we leave the big guy alone until he actually gets up." Jean said, slinging an arm around Marco. "Let's scare the shit out of Connie now, okay? He doesn't know you're here."

"Jean, that's not very nice…" Marco whined, though he let Jean drag him up the hallway. They paused outside of the doorway, and Jean slipped the spare key card he had pickpocketed out of Connie's bag the night before into the slot, letting the two of them in.

True to form, Connie was splattered out across both beds, which he had shoved together to form one superbed. (Lucky bastard had a room to himself if Marco wasn't traveling with them).

"And for a final touch," Jean slid a hand over Marco's freckled face, and carefully peeled the eyepatch off. He immediately regretted it- blackened, puckered skin surgically sewn together over an empty eye socket was what hid beneath the black scrap of fabric. Jean was suddenly assaulted with memories of that night, the fire on the bus, Marco running back inside to grab a screaming Christa, throwing her out of the tour bus' window and to safety, just before the roof went crashing in on him. That night at the hospital, everyone desperately pacing about as the doctors worked feverishly just to keep him alive. Well, they kept him alive, but left him with only one eye, a single arm, and tortuous red burns across his torso. Feeling sick to his stomach, Jean let the elastic band snap back into place. "Okay, maybe not."

"Scare him, not give him nightmares." Marco said, shoulders drooping.

"What!?" Jean yanked him into a tight hug, snuggling his face into Marco's neck. "No, no, no, don't say that Marco. You're beautiful, like a fucking butterfly in the spring."

"Eloquent as ever, Jean. Never pursue a career in songwriting." Marco poked him in the ribs gently.

"Are you guys gonna make out or what?" Connie grumbled from the bed, flinging a pillow at the two of them. "Because I would love to keep sleeping and the two of you are fucking _loud_. "

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**yo i'm alive**

**so again, credits to falloutboyonboy on tumblr. so check out her blog - this au is fucking beautiful. next chap will actually be written by me, i know some of you will be able to tell haha. thanks for reading, pm me whenever, and sorryyyyy for disappearing like that xoxo kisses**

**idk what i'm gonna do about those pjo stories i abandoned. but you can expect some more anime oneshots and shit in the future probably.**


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